


Falling For You Like Rain

by AestheticUsername



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Jess being a bitch, M/M, Mild Language, bus stop au, catsitting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8084482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AestheticUsername/pseuds/AestheticUsername
Summary: ABANDONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE :)))Dean is stuck in the middle of a torrential downpour, twiddling his thumbs in a bus stop. While sitting on his ass, he meets an odd man with the weirdest form of baggage. As he befriends the man, and their friendship blooms, Dean is left wondering if that's all it is -a friendship.(I know the title is cheesey, but I like it)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta reader at this point, so if you see any errors (gramatical or plot) please let me know so I can fix it. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated Chapter 1, if you havent read already, please do. I made a few minor changes that might be confusing later on.   
> Thanks to InThePalmOfMyHand for the beta!  
> Enjoy~

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the bus stop bench. After sitting so long in the cramped position he was in, the hard metal was beginning to dig into his back and the back of his thighs.

 

He growled and glared at the sky as if that would make the rain coming down in torrents stop. He was grateful for the bus stop, standing desolately off to the corner of a side street in downtown Lawrence. Dean's didn't even remember seeing it before today, but he shunned those that took the bus, so that wasn't unusual.

 

The small, three walled structure offered only slight protection from the wind and rain, but Dean was grateful nonetheless. He checked his phone for the tenth time in as many minutes, only to find that it hadn’t magically charged itself, and was still very much dead. He’d just have to wait it out.

 

 

 

It had been a good half hour, with no sign to show the weather letting up anytime soon, and Dean was seriously debating whether or not braving the storm and walking home would be a good idea. In the midst of his wondering, a man jogged from across the street and ducked into the tiny makeshift safe haven alongside Dean. The latter wrinkled his nose in disgust; the newcomer smelled like wet dog.

 

After fixing his face into a carefully neutral expression, Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eye to casually assess the man. His hair was dark, plastered to his head and over his eyes by the rain, and he wore a tan trench coat. It was unbuttoned but the man held it together tightly by the lapels. Under the coat, Dean could see the collar of a white dress shirt and a blue tie that was loosely and backwardly tied. All in all, the newcomer looked exactly as he smelled -like a puppy.

 

He sat on the bench as far away from Dean as the confined space would allow, sighed, and leaned his head back against the back wall, closing his eyes. Dean shifted restlessly for probably the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes, though this time for a different reason. He was never one for awkward silences.

 

"Hell of a storm, huh?" He had to say it three times before the man heard him over the noises of nature. The guy opened his eyes and directed his gaze towards Dean, and Dean noticed for the first time how exhausted he looked with dark rings and circles under his brilliant blue eyes. He nodded, seeming content to let the conversation end there.

 

Dean tried again.

 

"Don't get me wrong, normally I like the rain, but this wind is just killing me." The other man didn’t respond immediately. It seemed to Dean that he was considering ignoring him and his questions. After a few seconds, though, he brought his head up.

 

"Yes. I'm not a fan either." His voice was rough and deep and a bit gravelly. The man stared out mindlessly at the sheets of rain pummeling the buildings in front of them, hugging his coat closer to his chest. After a moment of silence, Dean decided one last time to attempt to initiate conversation.

 

"The name's Dean by the way." Dean used his most encouraging smile --the one he usually reserved for women at bars-- as the guy turned to look at him once more. His smile widened marginally as he watched brilliant blue eyes looking him over as if he'd just now noticed Dean.

 

"My name is Castiel," he said finally.

 

“ _Castiel_?” Dean scoffed without thinking, “What kinda name is that?”

 

“Mine.” Dean was taken aback by his own stupidity, the cold tone in the other man’s voice affecting him like a slap to the face. He hurried to stutter out an apology.

 

“Oh. Of course, yeah. Sorry. You mind if I call you Cas?”

 

Castiel thought for a moment before replying, “no.”

 

The conversation, feeble as it was, lulled as a particularly violent gust of wind shook the thin walls around them, causing Cas’ trench coat to flap wildly, and Dean to pull his own coat collar higher up over his neck.

 

“So what’s got you out in this weather?” Dean tried to resuscitate their talk when the wind died down enough for him to hear himself think again. Cas glanced at him briefly before turning away, not offering an answer.

 

“Ok, man. It’s cool. None of my business right?” A newspaper flew by, driven relentlessly by the wind, the soaked pages flapping wetly as it soared in and out of Dean’s line of vision. Dean watched a woman a few streets over running in the rain while struggling to keep a hold on her umbrella as the wind repeatedly tried to tear it from her grasp. As the wind died down, a noise from Cas caught Dean’s attention.

 

“What?” Dean turned to his new bench companion.

 

“I… didn’t say anything.”

 

“Oh. I thought you did.” He dismissed it as the wind- until heard it again. “What _is_ that?” He looked at Cas’ face. The man was avoiding eye contact.

 

“I didn’t hear it.” The noise came louder, more insistent.

 

“Man, I _know_ you hear that. What is it?” Cas started to wiggle and squirm in his seat, whispering to himself and clutching his chest over his coat. Dean rose uncertainly and stood over the brunet, worry clear in his voice. “You ok, Cas? Cas?” Dean was definitely not trained for this kind of situation. Seizure? Heart attack? Hell if he knew what was happening, much less how to _help_.

 

“‘M fine,” Cas muttered quietly.

 

“What?”

 

“I said ‘I’m fine.’” He had to shout to be heard over the wind.

 

“You sure?” Dean’s concerned face gave Cas pause.

 

“I’m sure. It’s just a-” A wet, fuzzy head popped out Cas’ shirt, sharing the collar. Dean stumbled back a few steps, not noticing the rain as it splattered against his back, rolling down the leather surface of his coat and soaking into his jeans.

 

“What the- Is that a cat?! Why do you have a cat?”  He spluttered. Cas looked hurt.

 

“She’s a kitten. I found her in the rain. I couldn’t just leave her out there.” Dean snuck a look at the fluffy gray head and mismatched eyes, then the storm still going full force only a few feet away. “I don’t know how someone could just leave her out there,” Cas continued, alternating between petting the kitten’s head and drying it with his coat sleeve. Dean fell back onto the bench with a huff.  

 

“I guess you’re right. Just… keep it over there.” The kitten mewed, and struggled to free itself from Cas’s shirt. Cas let his coat fell open, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and set the kitten on his lap. It shook itself and fell over. Cas caught it before it tumbled to the ground. He nestled it between his knees and stroked it gently. Cas turned to Dean and saw him eyeing the kitten thoughtfully.

 

“Do you want to hold her?” He asked. Dean’s eyes snapped up to Cas’ face.

 

“Oh- no, no. you just keep her over there. I’m more of a people person.” Dean used his best dazzling smile. Cas nodded and continued to pet the kitten. She offered a weak mew and began to knead Cas’ leg. Cas winced as the tiny claws dug into the fleshy part of his thigh, but didn’t complain. Minutes passed in silence except for the wind and the constant purring of the kitten.

 

The confined space retained heat almost to a stuffy degree, but the lacking third wall made it possible for cool air to be swept in with the wind whenever an especially strong gust shot by. Dean leaned his head back against the wall, listening to the rhythmic pounding of the rain on the roof of the bus stop, and the _whoosh_ of the wind. It couldn't hurt to close his eyes for a few minutes, right? He wasn't going anywhere for a while anyway. Dean closed his eyes, and let the storm lull him to sleep.

 

 

 

_Why’s it so loud?_ Dean awoke slowly, the wind and rain drowning out any other thoughts he might’ve had. He frowned and slitted his eyes open. His neck was hot. The thought registered as he squinted at the wall in front of his face. The wall? What? He shifted his gaze and saw a man next to him on the bench, one arm crossed over his chest, staring down at his phone, smiling. It took him a minute to remember. The bus stop. Cas.

 

“Yes?” Cas turned to him and Dean realized he’d said the man’s name aloud.

 

“Nnnng.”

 

“What?” Cas leaned toward him to hear better, shoving his phone in his pocket, almost guiltily,  in the process.

 

“Said ‘nothing.’” Dean reached back to scratch his neck. Why was it so hot? His hand met with his hair. _I really should get a haircut_ , he thought blearily. He scratched lazily, and let his eyes drift closed again.

 

There was a truck rumbling down the road; he heard it. It was awfully close though, and it didn't seem to be getting any louder. He dropped his hand to his side and sighed. He started to sit up, to straighten his aching back, but he only moved mere inches before he felt something stab his neck. His brows furrowed, eyes opened, and arm shot back up. Hair. A lot of hair. On his neck? That wasn’t right. He felt around some more until he found what was sticking in his neck. He carefully pulled it out and tried to bring it around to his face, only to have it slip from his grasp. He tried again, and managed to bring the offending object within his line of vision. The purring in his ear stopped. He froze in confusion. A kitten. On his neck. What? He straightened up, fully awake. The kitten in his hand squirmed, and he held it out at arm’s length. A quiet giggle caught his attention. Cas. He turned to the man, holding the kitten out to him.

 

“Did you put this on me?” he demanded, incredulous. Cas had the grace to look offended.

 

“Of course not. She walked up there all by herself.” Cas coughed to cover up another giggle. His defensive tone replace with one of barely contained laughter, he added, “she licked your ear and you called her Linda.” Cas couldn’t hold back any longer. He broke down into a fit of snorts and giggles. Dean’s face flushed as he remembered his most recent fling --Linda, and he dropped the kitten back on Cas’ lap - _where it belongs_ , he told himself. Cas managed to compose himself. He picked up the kitten, holding her close to his face, and began to talk to her soothingly.

 

“I’m sorry, Linda. He didn’t appreciate you? It’s ok, I’ll hold you. Poor kitten.” Dean coughed and spluttered.

 

“Y-you can’t name it _Linda_.”

 

Cas smiled over at him innocently.

 

“I didn’t. You did.” His attention was directed back to Linda as she wriggled in Cas’ hands. Cas set her on his own neck. She sniffed around and mewed in his ear.

 

“What’s the matter, Linda?” Cas asked in the same voice old ladies used to talk to small children. Linda slowly crawled to Cas’ shoulder and half jumped, half fell back onto his thigh. She mewed again, more insistently, before jumping off Cas (with a little help) and onto the bench next to him. She made her way back to Dean, mewing piteously the entire time.

 

Cas laughed.

 

“She wants you to pet her.” Dean looked from Linda to Cas with a mixture of confusion and disgust on his face.

 

“Why?” Linda mewed at the sound of his voice.

 

“I don’t know, Dean.” Cas sighed. “Just pet her. She won’t bite you.” Dean grumbled and muttered “she better not,” but reached down to pet her anyway. Linda immediately began purring, rubbing her head into Dean’s hand. Despite himself, Dean smiled a tiny bit. Linda voiced her opinion.

 

“All right, get up here.” Dean helped her onto his lap. “But don’t you go telling your friends. I don’t want a bunch of cats showin’ up at my house thinking I’m gonna pet ‘em.” Linda mewed in response to the sound of his voice. Dean took that as an affirmative and began petting her in earnest, rubbing her ears and stroking her little, fluffy body. Dean looked out at the sky. The rain was beginning to lessen, and he could see light between the clouds.

 

“Not much longer, huh?” he said to no one in particular.

 

“Looks that way,” Cas chimed in. Linda agreed.

 

Dean looked over to Cas, who was smiling at his phone again. Dean had a thought.

 

“Hey, you mind if I use your phone for a minute? Mine’s dead, and I should call my brother. He worries, you know the type.” Cas looked up, his smile still there, but faded a bit.

 

“Of course. Just... give me a second.” Cas tapped the screen a few times before handing the phone over. Dean freed one hand from Linda and took it.

 

“Thanks. Shouldn’t take long.” He dialed and held the phone to his ear. As it rang he played with Linda’s tail, hitting her lightly in the face with it.

 

“Hello?” Sam picked up on the first ring. Dean knew from past experiences that he’d been sitting with his phone in hand waiting for Dean’s excuses.

 

“Hey, Sammy. It’s me.”

 

“Dean, where are you? It’s been hours! You could’ve called, at least!” Sam sounded relieved and angry all at once.

 

“Yeah, sorry. My phone is dead. Had to borrow one. I’m sittin’ at a bus stop to get out of the rain. Should be over soon, then I’ll be back.” Dean absently fondled Linda’s ears.

 

“Oh. Ok. Well Jess stopped by, she’s making dinner. She won’t tell me what though. Says it’s a surprise.” Jess was Sam’s girlfriend. They’d been together for almost six months. Dean was proud of his baby brother for finally finding someone, and settling down was a common topic between the couple.

 

“Oh, God, don’t leave her in the kitchen alone. She’ll burn the place down.”

 

“ _Dean_.” Sam scolded. He was a bit overprotective of his girlfriend.

 

“What? Remember Thanksgiving? Tell me that wasn’t her fault.” There was a pause at the other end of the line. Dean smiled to himself, knowing his brother was making the face he made when Dean had a point, a sort of frown and head tilt combination.  He rubbed Linda’s stomach. She purred contentedly.

 

“That was one time. She’s gotten better... Probably.” Dean scoffed, preparing his most severe sarcastic response.

 

“ _Probably_. Well that’s good enough for me. I’m looking forward to th- OW! Dammit, Linda!” Dean retracted his fingers from the kitten’s mouth and bopped her nose. “Don’t bite.” There was no baby talk from Dean --he didn't play that way.

 

Linda jumped off him and stalked back to Cas with her ears back and tail held high.

 

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Dean?”

 

“Yeah? I’m here.”

 

“ _Dude_. Don’t call me when you’re with someone. Thats… rude. And gross.” Dean snorted, coughed, then laughed.

 

“What? It is!” Sam said defensively, but Dean couldn’t hear him. “Dean! Dean, come on.” Dean pulled himself together enough to wheeze “Linda’s a _kitten,_ bitch,” into the receiver.

 

On the other end of the line, Sam sighed again. “Whatever lights your fire, jerk. Just get home in time to eat. I’m not saving you any.”

 

“That is if it’s even edible,” Dean snickered, not yet fully over his bout of laughter.

 

“I’m hanging up now. Say hi to your “kitten” for me.” Dean could hear the air quotes in Sam’s voice, even through the crackle in their connection.

 

“Whatever,” was his brilliant comeback, but the connection was already cut. Dean ended the call on his end and handed the phone back to Cas, whispering “traitor,” under his breath as he spotted Linda snuggled on Cas’ neck.

 

Just as the phone left his hand, it began to buzz. Cas looked at the screen, announced, “it’s my brother,” with a smile at Dean, and answered it.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Where are you?” Typical Gabriel. Straight to the point.

 

“Sitting in a bus stop. It’s storming in case you haven’t noticed, Gabriel. Where are you?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. Which bus stop are you at? I’m out. I’ll swing by and pick you up on my way.”

 

“Oh. Well...um. I don’t know.”

 

“How do you not know where you are, bro. Come on, that’s sad.” Cas rolled his eyes and turned to Dean.

 

“Hey, Dean do you know which street this is?” Dean looked up, then out at the street.

 

“Says 9th street.” Cas thanked him and made a move to tell his brother, but Gabriel cut him off.

 

“Who was that?”

 

“Who? Dean? He’s here too. Getting out of the rain… Why?” Gabriel snickered.

 

“You got yourself another one? Already? Look at you go! I'm proud of you.”

 

“Shut. Up.” Cas’ voice was low and threatening; Dean had trouble making out the words -not that he was trying, of course.

 

“Okay, okay. Sorry I asked. Does he want a ride too? If it’s on the way that is. I’m not driving out of my way for some guy you met at a bus stop. And I don’t care how big his di-”

 

“Hold on. I’ll ask.” Cas interrupted quickly, a skill perfected thanks to years of experience talking with Gabriel. Cas put the phone against his chest and turned to Dean, who was looking at him expectantly. “Where do you live?” Dean was taken aback.

 

“What?”

 

“Where do you live, Dean? If it’s on the way, we can drop you off. If you want, that is.” Dean stretched his legs out in front of him.

 

“Oh. You know that big house on the corner of Main and 3rd?” Castiel nodded. “I live there.” Cas smiled wryly.

 

“Well that’s definitely on the way. Do you want a ride?”

 

“Sure man. If that’s all right with your friend.” Cas nodded again and brought the phone back up to his ear.

 

“Gabriel?”

 

“Still here.”

 

“It’s on the way. He said he’d love a ride.”

 

“Cool. Be there in 5. Gabe out.” And with that the line went dead. Cas slid his phone into his pocket.

 

“He said he’ll be here in five minutes. So it’ll be close to ten.” He lifted a hand to scratch Linda behind the ear. She purred at the touch.

 

“Awesome. I was gonna have to walk home. Thanks Cas.” Cas and Dean both stared out into the storm, still raging but not as harshly. The street lamps flickered and turned on, casting shadows on the mist rising from the blacktop. Linda mewed, and looked over at Dean.

 

“What, cat?” Dean asked. _Mew_. “You picked your side. That’s your fault.” Linda mewed in Cas’ ear, and Cas looked quizzically at Dean.

 

“We aren’t sides, Dean.”

 

“Well she chose you over me. Too bad, I’m not moving.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest to emphasize his point.

 

_Mew._

 

“Dean… Just pet her.”

 

“She bit me.”

 

“Yes. That’s what cats do when you pet their stomachs. _All_ cats.” Dean made a face.

 

“What? There is no way _all_ cats do that.” Cas nodded solemnly.

 

“Every single cat in the history of cats does that.” Dean snorted.

 

“Ok. Whatever.” Dean slid across the bench until his shoulder brushed against the other man’s.

 

“All right you. Come here.” Linda got up from her position on Cas’ neck and, using their shoulders as a bridge, wobbled onto Dean. They sat in silence until Gabriel showed up in his rusted Toyota to pick them up. He honked the horn impatiently before he had even stopped at the curb.

 

“That’s him,” Cas sighed. He scooped up Linda from her perch on Dean and carried her to the car. Dean didn’t object. As they settled in the tiny car, Gabe looked Dean over from the rearview mirror. He Caught Cas’ attention, motioned to Dean --who was struggling with the seat belt-- and gave two thumbs up. Cas glared at him.

 

“So, where to?” Gabriel asked as he sped off down the road. Dean told him which house was his. Gabriel laughed.  


"Hey Cas. You remember? That's the house you thought was haunted 'till you were, like, 11." Gabriel continued to laugh, even as Cas glared daggers at him from the passenger seat.  


"Because you told me it was."  


"Yeah, but you totally fell for it. You wouldn't walk past that house for _years_ ." Gabe slammed the brakes and took a sharp left, chuckling to himself all the while.   


"Jesus. Do you always drive like this?" Dean asked, face pressed against the the window.  


"It's Gabe, actually. No relation to the hippie in the sandals.” He drove through a stop sign without so much as a tap on the brakes. “What's wrong with how I drive?" Cas was about to point out the numerous traffic violations just from the short drive, when the car screeched to a stop on the curb in front of Dean’s house.  


"We're here," Gabriel announced.  


"Gabe," Cas piped up. "You could at least drop him off in his driveway."   


"Are you sure you don't want to watch h-"  


"Gabriel, please." Gabriel sighed in temporary defeat. He pulled the car back and up the short drive, jerking to a stop mere inches from the garage door. Dean glanced at Gabe, who grinned toothily back, and fumbled with his seat belt. He was prepared himself to make a break for the safety of his house. There was no way he would make it if Gabriel got impatient and backed over him-  


"Dean?" Cas twisted in his seat to look at Dean, effectively bringing him out of his reverie.  "Could you maybe take Linda?" Dean's face contorted and Cas backpedaled furiously. "I-I mean just for, maybe a few days? My family's coming to visit for the weekend, and my dad is allergic. I'll bring over food and whatever else you'd need. If not, that's ok too. Gabe can watch her." At his last words, Gabriel looked over and down at the kitten.  


"Gabe most certainly can _not_ ," he deadpanned. Cas shot him  a look before turning back to Dean questioningly.   


"Sure, I guess- but only for a couple days. That's it." Cas' face lit up at the words.  


"Thank you, Dean. I can bring stuff over tomorrow morning, if that's ok with you?" Cas handed the now-sleeping Linda over. As their hands touched, a small static shock startled Cas, and he almost threw Linda at Dean's expectant face. Dean laughed and gently plucking Linda from outstretched hands, stowing her away in his deep coat pocket where she would be sheltered from the rain.  


"Wow. I don’t think your guard dog likes us sitting in his yard," Gabriel didn’t even try to hide the awe in his voice. Dean shot a confused look at Gabriel. He followed the man’s gaze up to the front door. Sam was standing in the doorway, the light from the house behind him illuminating a strip of the porch and walkway.

 

“That’s Sam, my brother,” Dean filled in. When he noticed Gabe raise his eyebrows appreciatively, he added, “he is most definitely _off limits_.” Gabe nodded his head.

 

“Of course... I’d better go introduce myself.”

 

“Gabriel, _no_ ,” Cas frantically grabbed at his brother’s shirt, a weak attempt at holding him back, but his plans were thwarted by his seat belt locking. Gabriel sprung from the ugly green toyota, the door groaning in protest as he roughly slammed it behind him. Dean followed closely behind, with Cas bringing up the rear with protests of “Gabriel!” and “leave him alone!”

 

“Uh. Can I help you?” Sam called hesitantly as soon as Gabe was within earshot.

 

“I hope so.” Gabe stood on the porch, practically beaming up at Sam, quite obviously undressing him with his eyes. “Y’know, up close, you’re even mo-”

 

“Not cool man.”

 

“ _Ga_ briel!”

 

Cas pulled the back of his over-eager brother’s shirt, trying to steer him back to the car. Gabriel wasn’t ready to give up.

 

“How tall _are_ you? That’s impressive, Samsquatch.” He snuck a look at Sam’s crotch. “You gotta be, like-” Dean lent his strength to Cas’ cause, and together they pulled him back to the car. It was a team effort, but they managed to shove him in the driver’s side and close the door. After locking the doors, Gabriel proceeded to ignore the pair of them, and to pout.

 

“Dean?” Sam was equal parts confused, repulsed, and amused.

 

“Yeah, Sam, right. This is Cas. Cas, this is Sam. There was a violent knocking on the window behind them, and he added somewhat reluctantly, “And Romeo here’s called Gabriel. He’s Cas’ brother.” Cas leaned against the car window, blocking the obscene gestures he knew Gabriel was making at Sam.

 

“Step-brother, actually,” Cas clarified.

 

“Oh. Well, thanks for dropping him off,” Sam nodded at Cas. “And, uh, thank your brother for me, huh?” Gabriel slammed the horn, still pouting. Cas, who was leaning on the window, jumped aside. Gabriel took the opportunity to wink then mouth what looked suspiciously like “Let me bear your children” before Cas recovered and jumped back in place. Sam raised his eyebrows. Cas took it upon himself to explain Gabe’s actions.

 

“He can be a bit headstrong at times...and blunt.”

 

“I just know what I like!” Gabe’s muffled voice carried faintly through the thin glass of the car window. The trio pretended not to hear.

 

A figure appeared in the still open doorway of the Winchester house, the shadows cast as a result catching the attention of the men in the drive.

 

“Sam? What’s going on?” It was Jess, her petite voice giving her away.

 

“Jess. yeah, we’re fine. Dean’s back. He brought some friends.” Sam cast a sidelong glance in his brother’s direction, only to see him returning the gesture.

 

“Great, just in time. Dinner’s ready. Do your frien-”

 

“No!” Dean and Cas simultaneously cut her off before she could finish.

 

“We would love to, sweetheart,” Gabriel called enthusiastically from the car. Cas moved slightly right to block Gabe’s view of the house, and hopefully, everything else. Thankfully, Jess didn’t hear.

 

“We really should be going,” Cas explained in an apologetic manner. I have work to do. Thank you for the offer though.” Jess shrugged and retreated back into the building, closing the door behind her.

 

The yard, now dark save for the patches of light the brightly illuminated windows threw, looked eerie, and Cas suddenly felt the urge to disappear.

 

“Thanks for the ride Cas,” Dean shifted his weight and attention towards the man in the trench coat. “You coming tomorrow?” Castiel tilted his head to the side, a look of suspicious confusion on his face.

 

“Maybe. What’s tomorrow?”

 

“Oh, didn’t I ask you?” Dean’s face was as straight as he believed himself to be. “We’re having a slumber party. Braid Sam’s hair. The whole nine yards.” Sam turned away, suddenly shaken by a fit of coughs. The confused look on Cas’ face intensified.

 

“I-I don’t think.. Well, I have…” Cas broke off awkwardly. Sam gave up trying to cover it up, and burst out laughing. The corners of Dean’s mouth turned up slightly. Looking at the green eyed man, Cas knew he’d been duped. He looked away and blushed.

 

“Look at that gorgeous smile!!” Gabriel yelled. No one looked.

 

“Just messin’ with you, man. You promised stuff for Linda?”

 

“Oh. Yes. I can come tomorrow.”

 

“You brought Linda? Here?” It was Sam’s turn to be confused. He glanced in the back seat of Gabriel’s car. “...Where?” Dean’s lips curved upward into a full-blown, genuine smile. Cas couldn’t help staring.

 

Dean pulled Linda from his pocket and presented her proudly to his brother.

 

“This is Linda.” Sam, frozen in place, actually flinched when Linda meowed at him.

 

“Linda is…”

 

“A kitten?” Dean offered helpfully.

 

“An _actual_ kitten? Dean, you hate cats.” Cas looked up, surprised. “We’re not… _keeping_ her, are we?” Sam looked a bit scared.

 

“Just a few days. I’m catsitting. She’ll be fine.” Dean guffawed at the two of them.

 

“Caaaaaaaaaas! I’m huuuungry! Let’s eat with them!” Gabe pounded on the window to catch his brother’s attention.

 

“Well, I guess I’d better go feed my brother. At home!” He raised his voice at the last sentence so Gabriel could hear him in the car. “See you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Just let me know when you’re coming, ok?” Cas hesitated. “What?”

 

“Well, it’s… I don’t have your number.” Dean paused, thinking.

 

“Ah, that’s right.” He handed Linda to Sam, who held her close to his chest protectively, and shuffled in his pockets. He pulled out a scrap of paper --a burger receipt-- and a pen and scribbled his number and “Dean the catsitter” before handing it to Cas. “There you go. You can text or call, whatever suits your fancy.” Cas accepted the receipt and nodded his thanks. Sam slowly made his way to the front porch, Dean close behind. They stood at the front door and waved as Gabe backed the car out of the driveway and sped off, narrowly missing their mailbox.

 

“Catsitting,” Sam scoffed before turning Linda over to Dean and heading inside for dinner.

 

 

“So?” Gabriel asked expectantly. Cas tore his gaze from his phone in favor of glaring at his brother. The faint smile on his face all but disappeared.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

“Dean.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“You like him.” It was phrased more like a statement than a question.

 

“Who says?”

 

“Anyone in their right mind would. He does have a nice ass, after all. But...” Gabe trailed off.

 

Cas knew denying anything with Gabriel was futile, so he didn’t try. Sighing, Cas asked, “But what?”

 

“But… if you guys get together, you’ll introduce me to his brother, right? I mean a proper introduction. Maybe build up to the meeting with stories of my heroics and good deeds.”

 

Cas laughed.

 

“Yeah, sure. _If_ , and only _if_ , we get together.”

 

“Deal.” They lapsed into quiet humming -or at least on Gabriel’s part.

 

“Gabriel! There was a stop sign!”

 

“Where? I didn’t see it.” The accused said innocently. He ruined himself with his next words: “and no one was coming anyway.” Cas sighed and settled deeper into his seat.

 

The brothers rode in silence for a few minutes until Gabe asked, “I can go with you tomorrow, right?”

 

“No.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean’s alarm blared in his ear. He always set it for six am, even on weekends, although on the weekends he sometimes hit snooze for an an extra five minutes. He liked to treat himself every once in awhile. This morning, as the dull blaring of his alarm penetrated his sleeping mind, he wasn’t feeling so hot. In fact, he felt terrible. HIs head buzzed, his nose was clogged, and it felt like he’d swallowed an entire desert’s worth of sand.

 

A hand snaked out of layers of blankets and felt along the bedside table for the clock. Successfully turning the noise off, after knocking just about everything else off the table, he rolled back into his sheets and groaned. A loud, demanding ‘mew’ reminded him of yesterday’s events. He groaned again. Linda mewed in response. This went back and forth, until Dean groaned so loudly that Linda was scared into silence.

 

She lay on the opposite side of the bed as Dean, curled up on the pillow he set aside for her. Dean sighed in preparation for the day. He untangled himself from the blankets, arranged them in a way that could be called “made” if your standards were low enough, and donned a bathrobe. 

 

“C’mon, you lazy cat,” he growled, voice hoarse, as he plucked Linda from her spot and carried her with him to the kitchen. 

 

After a quick internet search the night before, one that suggested baby food or canned cat food -neither of which he had- the eldest Winchester boy decided milk would be enough for Linda’s meals.

 

He pulled the jug out of the fridge, two bowls from the cabinet, and the box of cereal from the pantry. He filled Linda’s bowl with milk and set it on the table, right next to the cat herself. She purred as she drank. Dean poured his own cereal and milk, grabbed a spoon from the drawer, and sat next to Linda. Both ate in silence, except for the crunch of Cheerios and the low rumbling of Linda’s vocalized content.

 

Dean finished before Linda was even halfway done. He put his dishes in the sink, the food back in their respective places, and sat to watch Linda drink with mute fascination, watching her tongue flick out, then back in.  _ How does she do that so fast?  _ He thought groggily.  _ If I could do that I'd have no trouble with women ever again _ . 

 

Dean sneezed loudly, without warning. Linda started, tipping her bowl and spilling her milk. It spread across the table faster than Dean could jump up and grab a wad of paper towels. Over her initial surprise, Linda went back to licking what little milk was left in the bowl, unconcerned with the puddle she was sitting in. 

 

“Move, bitch.” He spun Linda around and out of the puddle, though still in front of the bowl. Done cleaning, he tossed out the paper towels and moved the now empty bowl to the sink, stacked atop his. He carried her back upstairs, tossed her gently onto the bed, then went to the bathroom. 

 

In the cabinet there was a bottle of pills, the label clearly marking them as “cold and flu relief tablets.” Dean took three. The long, hot shower did wonders for his sinuses, and he was feeling much better by the time he emerged, dressed for the day in soft gray jeans and a plain tee, toweling his hair dry on his way to his room.

 

Seeing Linda sleeping on his pillow, he sat carefully and picked up the stuff he’d knocked off the bedside table in his half-asleep attempts to turn off his alarm. Among the fallen was his phone, still plugged in from last night, and now fully charged. He sighed and began to go through all of yesterday’s messages -the ones he couldn’t answer when his phone died halfway through the day. Damn smartphones. 

 

Several texts from Sam, ranging from “On your way, pick up some burgers. Jess is cooking” to “Dean, if you don’t call me back in the next ten minutes I’ll hack your phone again and come get you myself,” along with multiple missed calls. The messages Sam left were basically verbal versions of his texts. Sam really was a worrier.

 

Aside from Sam, the only other messages were from his buddy Benny asking if he wanted to go out hunting sometime, a missed call from Bobby, and a message from a girl at a bar he gave his number to a while ago. She must really be desperate. He wasn’t really feeling it at the moment, so he let the one sided conversation with her hang. He was about to toss the phone aside when a new message from another unknown number flashed at the top of the screen. It was simple, just two words. 

 

“Hello, Dean,” it read. He was about to dismiss it as another admirer when a second text appeared with a soft  _ brrrrt _ . 

 

**_It’s Cas. Is it too early to come over or are you up?_ **

 

Dean quickly tapped out a reply telling him it was fine, he was up. He added Cas to his contacts, and on a whim, set his notification sound to a cat’s meow. 

 

_ Meow! _

 

**_Cas:_ **

**_Ok. See you soon._ **

 

Dean tossed the towel on his head over the bed post and ran his fingers through his damp hair, mussing it even more. He decided to wait for Cas downstairs. 

 

Seeing Linda comfortably sleeping on his pillow, and wishing he were doing the same, he scooped her up, pillow and all, and headed down to wait for his guest. 

 

On the way to the living room, he stopped in the kitchen for a cuppa, and at the front door to unlock it.

 

He’d barely settled on the couch and set his pillow in his lap before he heard the meow that was Cas’ text tone. 

 

**_Cas:_ **

**_I’m here. Didn’t want to wake up anyone else with the doorbell._ **

 

Dean snorted. The guy was almost too  considerate. Instead of getting up to let him in, he sent back a quick reply.

 

**_Dean:_ **

**_It’s open. You can come on in. First door on the right._ **

 

A few seconds later, he heard the door open with a swish, and close with a muffled thud.

 

Dean raised his eyebrows in disbelief. In the doorway stood Cas, arms loaded with bags from various pet stores. His hair was meticulously brushed except for a cowlick that seemed to include all the hair across his hairline, and he wore a button up shirt --no tie today-- and dark jeans that fit him well. On his feet were sensible yet dressy black shoes. 

 

Dean eyed the bags in the man’s arms.

 

“Wow, man. You think you got everything?” Cas, seeing Dean lounging on the couch with Linda on her own personal pillow in his lap, exhaled sharply. He set the bags on the ground before replying.

 

“There’s more in the car. I couldn’t get it all in one trip. I’ll be right back.” He turned to retrieve the rest, declining Dean’s offer of help. A few minutes later, he returned with another armload. Setting these down next to the others, he began to go through them, for Dean’s benefit, naming each item as he went.

 

“Here’s a food bowl, a water bowl, and this should be enough food for her. If you run out, let me know and I’ll bring more over.” Dean nodded. The food and water bowls were green and blue, respectively, and that much food would feed a full grown cat for a month. 

 

Cas pulled a small scratching post from one of the bigger bags. 

 

“This is for scratching and stretching. And here,” He pulled another large bag closer, dumping its contents. “Is a cat bed and a blanket.” He looked up at Linda, who lay unmoving on the pillow. “Unless she’d rather use the pillow. That’s ok too. But I’ll leave this here just in case. There’s also a litter box and a carton of litter.” Dean crinkled his nose. He was  _ not  _ looking forward to cleaning that out every day. Linda would be fine going outside, right?

 

Three smaller bags were packed with various cat toys. Balls, little cloth mice, wands with streamers that made a horrifyingly loud noise when you shook them, and plastic rings that looked to Dean like the rings from milk cartons. Cas also pulled out small package of baby bottles. 

 

“The internet said kittens prefer bottles. You might not need them, though.” He pulled out a grooming brush, which he handed to Dean, who immediately began brushing Linda lightly. She purred, but didn’t move.

 

“And the best one,” Cas announced as he pulled the final bag and took out a small, teal object. He handed it to Dean to inspect. It was a collar, a tiny thing with an even tinier silver bell. 

 

“I thought it was cute,” Cas shrugged. 

 

“Yeah, I like it too,” Dean put the brush down and unclasped the buckle of the collar, lifted Linda’s head, and slipped it around her neck. He snapped the ends together and sat back to admire Linda’s new look. 

 

The collar was a bit big, but he knew she would grow into it. The teal went well with both her blue and green eye. The bright silver of the bell sharply contrasted the dull gray of her coat. 

 

“Perfect,” he breathed. Cas had to agree. 

 

“It was either that one or pink, but I figured-”

 

“You picked the right one, definitely.” Linda yawned and stretched. Cas ripped open a package of small mice that rattled when you shook them, and held one up to her face. She swatted at it playfully, her entire attention riveted to it as it rattled and swung. 

 

Dean set her on the carpet at his feet and put the pillow aside. Castiel tossed the mouse a few inches in front of her, and she sprang after it. 

 

“Takes a lot of stuff for one whiney kitten, huh?” Dean smiled at the kitten as she seemed to discover her tail for the first time and rolled over to bite it, mouse all but forgotten. 

 

“Yes. I’ll have to take her in to get shots and tests some time, too. I'm having a plate engraved with her name and my number to attach to her collar in Cas she gets lost.” Cas stared at her lovingly, his face alight with warmth. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, the eyes themselves, brilliant blue and dancing with amusement, reminded Dean of pools of water rippling in the breeze. He wondered how many people would look at another person with that much affection, much less a cat. 

 

Cas turned and said, frowning slightly, “Oh, I almost forgot. I left a cat carrier on your porch. I don’t think you’ll need it, but if you do, it’s there.”

 

“Alright,” laughing he added, “What, no Gabriel today?” Cas sighed dramatically.

 

“Oh, he wanted to come. I had to sneak out through the back window to get away without him. Poor Sam.” Dean laughed, the volume scaring Linda into running full speed under a chair, where she sat until Cas threw another mouse in front of her. She darted out, slapped it around, and retreated back under her chair. This happened several times, Dean and Cas content to watch the literal game of cat and mouse.

 

“So your dad’s coming to visit? Sounds like fun.” After a while watching Linda, Dean couldn’t stand the quiet anymore. 

 

Cas shrugged indifferently. 

 

“It’s a sort of family gathering we do every year. We all get together and talk about how successful our lives have been. We all take turns hosting. This year it’s at my place.”

 

“By “we all” you mean you have siblings? I mean like, besides Gabriel.” 

 

“Yes, I know. There are five total. Michael is the oldest, Then, Balthazar, Anna, Gabriel, and me.” Cas counted on his fingers as he named them. “Thankfully, most of them live out of town. I don’t think I would be able to stand them all year round.” Dean snickered.

 

“Seriously, man, just Gabriel is too much.  _ Five  _ of you? Jesus, whose idea was that?”

 

Cas shrugged again. “I don’t think it was planned, it just kind of happen- Linda! Get down from there!” he clapped his hands loudly at Linda who was busy climbing the pale curtains that framed the windows beside the couch. 

 

Linda jumped down and ran under the couch. 

 

“I’ll fix that,” Dean announced decidedly. He pulled the long curtains and tied them so that they barely stretched down to the cushions of the couch. “Try and climb them now.” 

 

That done, he turned back to Cas. 

 

“So you’ve got your brothers -and sister- and your Dad. Your mom come for these parties too?” Cas suddenly found the pattern on the carpet very interesting. 

 

“No. She’s dead.”

 

Oh, shit. Sorry Cas, I didn’t…”

 

“No. It’s ok.” He took several deep breaths before continuing quietly. “She died giving birth. To me.” 

 

Dean didn’t know what to say. Should he apologize? Again? Did Cas need sympathy? chocolate? A hug? Dean settled for an awkward, one-arm embrace. 

 

“That sucks, man.”  _ Wow. real sympathetic, Winchester. _

 

“They blame me. For her death. Dad, Balthazar. Especially Michael.” Cas’ voice was barely above a whisper. 

 

“Well, you know what I say?” Cas looked up into Dean’s stubborn face. “To hell with them. Especially Michael. Screw ‘em, that’s what I say. They don’t deserve you anyway.” Castiel looked like he was about to cry.  _ Uh Oh. Not good.  _ He was about to apologize -again- but Cas interrupted him.

 

“Thank you, Dean.” He smiled, and Dean’s stomach did little flips. He cleared his throat.

 

“Ahm, how ‘bout some coffee? I made a pot this morning. Should still be hot.” He knew he was babbling. Not waiting for an answer, he stood, grabbing his own cup on his way to the safety of the kitchen. 

 

He was halfway to the door when Cas called, “One cream, two sugars, please.”

 

In the kitchen, he grabbed a mug for Cas and filled them both with the now lukewarm coffee. He left his black, and added Cas’ sugar and creamer. While he waited for the microwave to do its magic, he popped two Tylenol in his mouth for his queasy stomach. 

 

Returning with the steaming mugs, he found Cas on the floor with Linda. He was holding her around the middle and dragging her back and forth across the carpet. Her tail swished furiously as she bit his hand playfully. Dean couldn’t help smiling to himself as he set the other man’s coffee on the coffee table with a loud clank. 

 

Cas looked up. 

 

“Ah, thank you, Dean.” He released Linda and took a sip. “Perfect.”

 

“Glad you like it.”

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What about your family?”

 

“I’ve got Sammy. Our parents live in Kansas. That’s it.” Cas nodded. 

 

“Must be nice. Quiet.” Dean laughed. 

 

“Usually, yeah.” He swirled the coffee in his mug, waiting for it to cool enough to drink. 

 

“Listen, if your family drives you to levels of near-madness, you’re welcome to cool off here.”

 

“Near-madness?” Cas questioned.

 

“If you go full-on insane, I don’t want you over here messin’ up my house. Nothing personal, I just happen to live here.” 

 

Cas laughed, hiding his face behind his mug. 

 

“Ok. We’ll have a… slumber party. Braid Sam’s hair.” Dean laughed, remembering last night’s conversation.

 

“Sam’s hair is off limits, for the record,” Said a new voice. It was Sam, standing in the doorway, grinning. His hair was tousled like a magnificent mane around his ears. Obviously, he’d just woken up.

 

“Mornin’, sunshine.” 

 

“Good morning, Sam.”

 

Sam acknowledged their greetings, then retreated to eat breakfast. 

 

“You guys better have saved me some coffee,” he grumbled over his shoulder, barely loud enough to be heard. Dean just smiled. 

 

Cas sipped his coffee quietly, mindlessly staring at Linda curled up on the floor at his feet.

 

“Well, I’d better be getting back. I should clean.” Cas stood, empty coffee mug in hand, which he held out to Dean. “My family will be here tonight. There’s no such thing as ‘too clean’ when they’re involved -and with Gabriel staying at my place, it’ll be twice as much work.” 

 

“What? Why? What’s he do?” 

 

Cas sighed and looked at Dean in a way that demanded pity.

 

“He… doesn’t help. He does the opposite, in fact. This morning he tried to bribe me into letting him come with breakfast.” Cas cringed visibly, then continued. “It was burnt, naturally, but the kitchen was even worse. There was an  _ egg  _ on the  _ ceiling _ . I have no idea how he even did that. I told him to clean it up, but he’ll probably try and surprise me with lunch when I get back.” Dean was taken aback.

 

“On the  _ ceiling _ ?” Cas nodded, eyebrows drawn tightly together. Dean laughed loudly. “Reminds me of the time Jess tried to cook Thanksgiving dinner for us. Last year, she managed to  _ explode  _ the turkey. I mean, like, Death-Star-destruction-scene explode. It was bad.” Sam yelled something from the kitchen, but neither man paid him any attention. 

 

“Like a what?” Cas asked.

  
“Death Star?” When Cas clearly still didn’t understand, he added, “Star Wars?”

 

“I… I’ve never seen that.” 

 

“Oh, come  _ on  _ man. It’s a classic.” Cas shrugged, and took a small step towards the door. Dean took the hint and dropped the subject, though not without making a mental note to have a Star Wars marathon with Cas at some point in the near future. 

 

The conversation lulled to an awkward level. Dean could tell that Cas was ready to go, so he slapped his shoulder and said, “well, say hi to Gabriel for me. Good luck with your cleaning.” Cas shot him a look, but promised to do so. Dean waved to the other man as he backed his car out into the road and sped off. He stayed in the doorway until he couldn’t see Cas’ car anymore.

 

On his way back upstairs, he stopped by the kitchen to drop off Cas’ mug and refill his own. Seeing Sam and Jess involved in a heated make-out session, he purposely dropped Cas’ mug loudly in the sink, startling them into sheepish giggles. Dean left quickly. Chick flick moments were not his thing.

 

Upstairs, he dug through his bedside table for cough drops. The scalding coffee hadn’t helped his sore throat at all. He prayed to whatever God would listen that it would only last for the weekend. He settled down to watch some TV.

 

It wasn’t until halfway through an episode of  _ The Wire _ that he realized he forgot Linda.

 

“Shit, shit, shittity shit.” Almost tripping over his own feet on his way down the stairs, he raced to the living room. No Linda. He frantically shifted through all the now empty bags from the kitten supplies, throwing them aside as he went. 

 

Not finding her in the pile, he moved to look under the couch and side tables. Nothing.

 

“Uh. Dean?” It was Sam, thank God _. _

 

“Sam. Thank God.” Dean narrowly missed smashing his head against the table as he sat back on his heels to give Sam a look filled with horror and terror. “I lost her.”

 

“What, Linda? Dean, you’ve had her for less than a day.” 

 

“I know, I know. Just help me look.” Dean pulled aside the curtains and checked under the couch cushions.

 

After scouring the entire room from top to bottom, Sam asked “Did Cas take her?” Dean looked at him oddly, and he hurried to finish. “I mean accidentally. Like she climbed into his pocket or followed him outside or something.”

 

_ Oh God. If she got outside we’ll never find her.  _ Dean mentally fretted. She didn't even have an ID tag yet. 

 

Cas would’ve found her if he’d accidentally taken her, right? He would’ve called. But if he didn’t notice her, she could be stuck in his pocket, or in his car, for God knows how long. 

 

A thought struck Dean. What if Cas took her on purpose. To test him or something. To see what he’d do. But Cas really didn’t seem like the kind of guy to pull a dick move like that. Did he?

 

“God dammit!” Dean kicked a table leg. Sam already looked done with the whole situation.

 

“I’ll check the other rooms. She could be wandering around somewhere.” He left Dean to his conflict.

 

Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and silently debated calling Cas. If he had taken Linda, he’d be expecting a call. On the other hand, if he didn’t, he would think Dean incapable of watching a tiny animal, and probably pawn her off to Gabriel.

 

“What the hell,” he muttered, and dialed Cas’ number. He picked up after what seemed like an eternity. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Cas. It’s Dean.”

 

“Hello, Dean.” Dean could hear dishes clattering in the background. “How’s it going?” Dean decided that saying it straight out would be best.

 

“Good. Yeah. Listen, you didn’t happen to know if Linda is hiding in your pocket, do you?” There was a long pause. 

 

Finally, Cas answered. “No… I thought you had her. Dean, is-”

 

“Naw, man, everything’s good. Just checking, you know. Just in case.”

 

“Dean, did you lose Linda?” Cas was blunt, and Dean could hear Gabriel laughing hysterically in the background.

 

“What? No. No! Of course not. That’s-” Sam, at that point, decided he just  _ had  _ to interrupt.

 

“Dean! She’s not in here. Did you check upstairs?” He called loudly from the kitchen. Dean sighed loudly into the phone. He heard Cas huff and knew what to expect, so before it came, he interrupted.

 

“Don’t worry, we got it under control. If you don’t have her, she’s gotta be here. Somewhere. I’d better go. I’ll call when we find her, alright?”

 

“Dean-” Cas started. Gabe yelled “Less than a  _ day  _ Cas, that sucks  _ ass _ ,” in between peals of laughter, loud enough for Dean to hear clearly. 

 

“Don’t worry, man. I’ll call, ok?” Cas reluctantly agreed and offered his help. Dean declined politely, and ended the call.

 

“Alright, ya little furball. Where are you?” 

  

 

It took two hours of searching, several suggested hiding places from Cas via text message, and Jess threatening Dean’s life several times before they found Linda. Dean would never have thought to look in a potted fucking plant, and of course, that was where she was hiding. Sleeping peacefully, curled around a fake fern.

 

The three of them, Dean, Sam, and Jess,  celebrated the return of their beloved, temporary pet with beer and Dean’s famous burgers.

 

“I can’t believe you didn’t check the plants,” Jess said to Dean, tomato juice and hamburger grease dripping down her chin. 

 

“Well, to be fair, no one else did either,” Sam pointed out, handing her a napkin.

 

“Dean was supposed to check the hallway though. There’s not even much stuff in there where a cat could hide.”

 

“Well I didn’t see you looking in potted plants,” Dean spoke up. “Eat your burger.” He downed the rest of his beer and rose to get another from the fridge. His phone mewed. A text from Cas. Oh. Shit. 

 

“Cas.” 

 

“What?” Sam asked, then added as an afterthought, “Oh, and while you’re up, bring the ketchup over.”

 

“No, shit. Cas. I forgot to tell Cas.” 

 

Jess snorted, and Sam rolled his eyes and repeated his request for ketchup.

 

Dean thumped the bottle on the table at his brother’s elbow and left to call Cas. In the living room, he opened the text. 

 

**Cas:**

**Did you check on top of your bookshelf? My Aunt had a cat that used to climb up on her bookshelf and hide there.**

 

Dean tapped the chat box to reply, and paused. He had a better idea.

 

Back in the kitchen, he scooped Linda up from her spot on the unused chair and took her to the hallway. Dumping her back into her potted plant, he waited for her to get settled in. 

 

When she was sprawled on her back and purring contentedly into plastic leaves, Dean stooped down, put his head next to the pot, and brought his phone up.

 

Dean Winchester had never taken a selfie in his entire life, and was rather proud of himself for it. None at parties, bars, with friends-never. However, this time, he didn’t care. It was for a good cause, he told himself, and with that knowledge in mind, he pulled the most ‘so done’ face he could manage, and snapped the picture. Perfect. There was Linda, sleeping with her back to the camera, in a potted plant, and on the side, Dean stared into the camera, the slightest flicker of amusement lighting up his eyes. He sent it to Cas with the caption “I hate this cat.”

 

Just as he finished brushing the dirt off Linda (real dirt for a plastic plant? Who came up with this shit?), he got a reply. It was a picture of Gabriel, in a frilly pink apron, standing next to a skillet on the stove, pointing at the camera with his spatula. From the counter dripped  _ something _ disgusting looking, and several bowls, spoons, and a blender covered the surface. Gabe had obviously been in the middle of saying something; his face was frozen in mid-word. The caption read “I’ll trade you. Your animal for mine.”

 

Dean laughed aloud. 

 

“What?” Sam and Jess stood in the hallway next to him. He jumped. He didn’t hear them walk up.

 

“Who’s that?” Jess asked, peering over his shoulder at the picture of Gabe still on his phone. “Oh my God, what a mess.”

 

“Yeah. That’s Gabriel, Cas’ brother.” She wrinkled her nose. 

 

“Ugh. What is he wearing? That’s disgusting.”

 

Dean laughed, but Sam looked thoughtful. 

 

“Yeah. That’s Gabriel for you. I was tellin’ Cas we found Linda.” He slipped the phone in his pocket, mentally formulating a reply. “Let’s go eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, chapter two! Sorry, I know it took forever, but I did have fun writing. I hope you liked it too.  
> Why not leave a review? ;)  
> Thanks to InThePalmOfMyHand for the beta!!!


	3. Chapter 3

It was Monday morning. Thankfully, Dean’s health had returned to normal. Which was good; he had other problems to deal with. Namely Linda. Specifically, who was going to watch her while he was at work.

 

“You were the one who told Cas you’d watch her. Don’t go pushing her off on me,” was Sam’s response when Dean asked him. Jess was no help either, giving him a lecture on responsibility like he wasn’t a twenty-six-year-old man.

 

So it was decided. Linda was going with him to work.

 

She seemed excited, walking in circles in the passenger seat of Dean’s Impala as he drove. Occasionally, when Dean applied the brake she’d lose her balance and tumble around on the seat until she regained her footing.

 

Dean worked, and had since high school, in Singer’s Auto Shop, a little mechanic shop at the edge of town. Out of the way, but still buzzing with customers coming for oil changes, tire rotations, and other mechanical help. The shop had been there since what seemed like the beginning of time, and so had its owner, Bobby Singer, who looked like death warmed over. Bobby had been a godsend for Dean. He gave him a job back when his parents weren’t getting along so well. Sam stayed at his friends’ houses, and Dean went to work on cars. John Winchester had taught him the basics, but Bobby really taught him everything he knew. He had spent as much time as he could at the shop -after school, weekends, minor holidays, whenever he could get away. Bobby had been very understanding about his family troubles, and took him under his wing. Dean just hoped he’d be as understanding about Linda.

 

He pulled into the employee parking area and hid Linda in his coat pocket.

 

He wasn’t surprised to see one of the regulars, Hester, sitting in the waiting area, obviously waiting for him. Dean tried to avoid Hester as much as possible. A man can only handle so much aggressive eye sex from women twice his age.

 

He ducked behind a stack of tires, skirted the room, and headed into the back. He made his way to Bobby, where he knew he’d be under the hood of an old Dodge Mirada.

 

“Bobby. Hey. Can I talk to you?”

 

“Of course, boy. What's on your mind?” Bobby wiped his grease covered hands on an equally grease covered rag.

 

Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot, planning his next words carefully.

 

“I don't have all day.” Bobby pointed out gruffly, but looked more closely at Dean. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

 

“No, nothing like that. It's just-” Linda's demanding meow sounded muffled through the material of his coat, but it was still quite audible. Dean continued as if he hadn't heard it. “I ran into a friend the other day, and-” Linda mewled pitifully, and still Dean forged on. “-he needed me to take care of something, so I had to bring-” Linda started clawing at Dean's coat, and he pulled her out and set her on his shoulder without thinking it through. “-her here with me today,” he finished. Linda was content to sit on Dean's neck and stare at her surroundings while Bobby eyed her incredulously, his mouth hanging agape before he snapped it shut, only to open it again.

 

“What in the- this a garage, not a petting zoo, boy!”

 

“I _had_ to bring her. I'll keep her outta the way, she just needs to stay here.”

 

Bobby glared at the two of them with squinted eyes, but turned back to his car and waved them off without another word.

 

When Dean was a few feet away, he heard Bobby call out to him: “If anything happens to the cat, it's on you.”

 

Dean shuffled over to the car he was working on without acknowledging, but he knew it was true.

 

Thankfully, though, the day went without incident. Dean let Linda explore the inside of the cars he was working on (she usually slept on the dash) and during his breaks he dragged a spare wire around the floor for her to chase. The other employees were surprised at first at the idea of Dean and a cat, but they warmed up to her quickly enough that Dean trusted them to watch her for the short periods of time he had to leave her.

 

Ash, the receptionist/backup mechanic, offered to keep her occupied at his desk while Dean consulted Bobby on the best track to take with a leaking fuel line.

 

When Dean came back just minutes later, Linda was napping in a drawer on top of a stack of paper. He made a special trip out to his car to get a can of food and left it with Ash upon his return for when she woke up. At least then he'd had a good half hour of work without distraction.

 

During his lunch break some hours later he fed Linda pieces of turkey from his sandwich, which she scarfed down as if she hadn't eaten in weeks.

 

By the end of the day, Linda was stuffed full of various bits from other people’s lunches that they very generously offered her, and was sleeping soundly on the coffee table in the waiting room, sprawled out over numerous sports and health magazines.

 

Bobby had cut her some slack after she'd caught a mouse in the breakroom. Now, as Dean was getting ready to head out for the day, he stood over her, letting his shadow surround her.

 

He resisted the temptation to take a picture of her and send it to Cas until he realized there was no reason why he shouldn't, so he did.

 

“Hard life for a cat,” he captioned it. Within minutes he had a reply.

 

**Cas:**

**God, I wish I were a cat right now.**

 

Dean frowned and tapped out a reply after transferring Linda to his shoulder, careful not to jostle her too much.

 

**Dean:**

**Not enjoying cleaning up?**

 

**Cas:**

**You could say that.**

 

Dean said his goodbyes, as did Linda, the little snot, stealing all the attention. After he strolled out into the parking lot where he leaned against his car door to shoot Cas a quick reply before starting the short ride home.

 

**Dean:**

**Sounds like you need to vent? I'm always listening.**

 

He heard the phone meow several times as he was driving, but left it for when he got home. It was going to need his full attention.

 

Only when the car was parked, the cat was asleep in a position that made her look like she lacked a spine, and Dean was halfheartedly rummaging through the fridge for a snack did he opened the texts. There was a long string of them and Dean abandoned the fridge to sit on the counter and read them.

 

**Cas:**

**Thank you, Dean. It all started this morning…**

 

Dean went on to read how Cas woke up early to get a headstart on the guest rooms his family members would be staying in the next night when his entire family came knocking on his door. An entire day early. Cas was freaking out and Gabriel woke up to make breakfast and a mess as the rest of the family critiqued the color scheme of Cas’ place (“really? _Beige_ , Castiel? That was so last year's trend!”).

 

At lunch, he had received several complaints on his last-minute lasagna (how was he supposed to know Balthazar went gluten free?), the only half empty carton of milk in the fridge was bad, and he didn't have the right kind of paper towels to clean up the organic grape juice Michael spilled all over the counter.

 

The only nice person was Anna, who brought Cas an expensive bottle of red wine and went out of her way to defend him from the rest of the family.

 

Cas ended with a picture of what Dean assumed to be Cas’ family. There was a short, middle aged man in the center of the photo, rearranging a fall colored centerpiece on a nice dark wood coffee table. On his left, in a tan recliner, a man with short blond hair and sharp features sat staring down at a photo album with only mild interest. A woman with long red hair sat on the arm of the chair, leaning over the man and pointing at a page of the album. In the furthest right corner Dean could make out the outline of a tall, well-built guy looking with distaste at a painting on the wall. Someone's leg was sticking into the frame, caught mid-step. Probably Gabriel’s.

 

Dean pressed his fingers to the screen and swiped to enlarge the photo. Just above the head of Cas’ dad was a large ornamental mirror. Cas was visible, his  face halfway covered by his phone, but his hair was everywhere, sticking up and out in all directions. Cas, from the small portion of eyebrows Dean could see, looked livid.

 

**Dean:**

**Remember, near-madness is welcomed here with me.**

 

**Cas:**

**Be careful, I may just take you up on that offer.**

 

**Dean:**

**That's what it's there for. But if you do come over I'd love to try some of that lasagna since you have so much leftover :)**

 

**Cas:**

**Of course ;)**

 

**Dean:**

**Hell if you bring the grape juice you're welcome at any stage of madness.**

 

**Cas:**

**Noted. Lasagna and grape juice. Sounds… Great.**

 

Dean scoffed at the mental image of the face he imagined Cas would make thinking about lasagna and grape juice. His phone meowed again, and Dean realized he'd been grinning like an idiot.

 

**Cas:**

**I have to go convince my dad that I don't need carpet in my bathroom. Thanks for listening, Dean.**

 

Dean sent a quick “you're welcome” text and then moved upstairs to change his oil-splattered work clothes.

 

  


**Cas:**

**Hey Dean, I'm really sorry to bother you. Are you up?**

 

This was not the kind of text Dean expected to receive from Cas at almost two o'clock in the morning. He squinted against the bright glare of the screen to read it again, just in case he'd made the whole thing up in his sleep deprived state.

 

His fingers fumbled as he struggled to type out a short response. It took him several tries, but he finally managed it.

 

**Dean:**

**Yeah man. What's up?**

 

In the time it took Cas to reply, Dean rolled onto his side in bed and pulled the covers more closely around his shoulders.

 

**Cas:**

**I hate to bother you. Would you mind if I came over to your place for a while? I'm approaching near-madness at a dangerously fast speed.**

 

Dean sat up straight in his bed, now totally awake, fingers tapping furiously against the phone screen.

 

**Dean:**

**Of course. It's no problem. You need me to pick you up?**

 

**Cas:**

**Yes, please.**

 

Dean pulled himself out of bed, threw on a pair of dark sweatpants he hoped were clean but didn't bother to check, pulled on some shoes he found under the bed, and was out the door in less than five minutes, grabbing a jacket from the hook by the door on his way past.

 

Finding Cas’ house wasn't hard, especially with the detailed directions Cas texted him. The whole trip took about ten minutes.

 

Cas lived in a low, one story cottage-type house with a wide porch and single car garage. The driveway was filled with numerous cars, forcing Dean to park along the road in front.

 

As soon as he pulled up, Cas was out the front door, striding swiftly across the lawn, wearing the same tan coat he'd been wearing the first time Dean had met him, dark dress pants, and clutching a pair of shoes so hard his knuckles were white. The outline of one of Cas’ relatives (Dean couldn't tell which) was visible behind the screen door, watching Cas’ departure.

 

When he reached Dean and the car, Dean leaned over and unlocked the door for him to climb in.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said before he was even settled in the passenger's seat. He didn't bother to put on his shoes, instead opting to place them on the floor by his feet.

 

Dean waved a hand. “Don't mention it. Glad to help.”

 

He waited until they were cruising along the main road to ask the question he was aching to ask since the first text.

 

“What's up?”

 

Cas paused his drumming his fingers against his knees for a minute, then replied, “It’s nothing. I just needed to get out of the house for a while.”

 

Dean exhaled sharply instead of laughing outright.

 

“If it's your family, remind them that they're in _your_ house. They should be the ones kicked out.”

 

“I wasn't kicked out,” Cas corrected him. “I just need a break for a few hours.”

 

Dean understood. There had been times where he needed a break from everything going on in his life too. He once spent a whole week in Miami after a particularly nasty fight with his dad.

 

Deans stomach growled lightly, interrupting his thoughts and breaking the drawn-out silence he hadn't noticed.

 

“Well how would you feel about an early breakfast? My treat.” Dean grinned over at his passenger, taking his eyes off the road for what was probably well over the safe time limit.

 

Cas tore his gaze away from his hands in his lap long enough to nod tiredly but enthusiastically at Dean.

 

“I… am kinda hungry.”

 

“Awesome. How does McDonald's sound?”

 

Cas offered a warm smile and reached for his shoes.  “Sounds great.”

 

Dean pulled off the road and into the parking lot, where he expertly parked his mammoth of a car and led Cas into the fast food restaurant, holding the door for him like a proper gentleman. He tried to pretend he wasn't wearing sweatpants and old sneakers while Cas looked like a fucking lawyer. It was the first time Dean felt underdressed at a McDonald’s .

 

They were the only customers in the place, which wasn't surprising considering the odd hour. The employees were playing card games at one of the tables, but they scattered when the pair strolled in.

 

“I'll have uh… the Big Mac meal and a small vanilla ice cream,” Dean told the girl who scurried behind the counter to take their order. “That comes with a large drink, right? I'll have a Coke. What do you want, Cas?”

 

“Pancakes,” was the man's gravely, sleep deprived answer

 

The girl took Dean's money, gave him the change, and told him to take a seat. Apparently at two in the morning McDonald's workers bring your food directly to your table like a fine establishment.

 

It wasn't long before Dean was stuffing a quarter-pound slab of beef into his face and Castiel was smearing butter on his pancakes.

 

“Y’know,” said Dean with a mouthful of burger, “if I had a family like that I'd live farther away than Kansas.” He took a minute to chew on french fries dipped in ice cream. “Antarctica, maybe.”

 

Cas sliced his pancakes into rows, then sliced the rows into rows.

 

“Mmm. Too cold for me.”

 

“Not as cold as the hearts of your brothers.”

 

Cas scoffed around a bite of pancake. “Very dramatic, but fair point. There's no McDonald's in Antarctica though. Not that I come here often.”

 

Dean slurped his Coke loudly. The sound bounced off the walls and reverberated for several seconds before dying down under the _whoosh_ of the heating system.

 

“Burger King?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Wendy's?”

 

“None.”

 

“Quiznos? KFC?”

 

“Nope aaand nope.”

 

“Well what are you supposed to eat up there?”

 

“I dunno. Ice, probably. Or penguins.”

 

The stupidity of this conversation hadn't occurred to either man, and to be honest, neither one of them really cared.

 

Dean pointed a french fry across the table. Vanilla ice cream dripped onto his big mac box. “Hey, I'm not eating any penguins.”

 

Cas looked up to make a retort, probably about the rising penguin population, but stopped when he saw Dean's ketchup substitute.

 

“Is that… ice cream… with french fries?”

 

Dean bit into the soggy fries.

 

“Yup. Best thing to come out of McDonald's.”

 

Cas stared on with disgust and concern etched into his features as Dean picked up his entire burger and dipped a corner of it into his ice cream.

 

“Their ketchup is nasty. All oily and gross. Ice cream’s a good substitute.”

 

“That's…. disgusting?”

 

“No,” Dean told him like he was Copernicus explaining to the Catholic Church for the hundredth time that the earth goes around the sun, “it's not.”

 

“Yes it is. They'll get cold and mushy. And that's gross.”

 

Dean violently poked at his ice cream with a few similarly sized fries. He made a big show of taking them all in one bite, moaning as if the watery-sugar coated potato slices were the best thing he'd ever put into his mouth. After a few chews he swallowed with an “aaaaaah” and a slurp of coke.

 

Castiel was not amused. In fact, he didn't even seem to be paying attention. He was staring red-faced down at his half eaten pancakes. He brought the paper napkin he'd been clutching in his fist up to his face, dabbing the corners of his mouth very formally.

 

“I, uh. I have to… I'll be right back,” he mumbled. Standing abruptly and turning quickly, he shuffled awkwardly at clipped pace to the men's room at the far corner.

 

Dean nodded. He knew all too well just how badly fast food messed up some people's digestive system. Especially Taco Bell. That shit was radioactive -no pun intended.

 

Dean took the liberty of sneaking a few bites of pancake during his companion’s absence.

 

Cas didn't notice the missing bits. He was too busy swirling patterns in the syrup that had pooled at the corner of the plate with his plastic knife.

 

“Are you gonna finish that?”

 

Cas looked up to Dean, who was eyeing the platter. He pushed it towards him in a silent invitation.

 

Dean dug in, using forkfuls of pancake to soak up the last drops of ice cream in the bottom of the tiny cup and ignoring the obvious disgust on Cas’ face.

 

The two sat awkwardly on the sticky plastic booth benches, neither really wanting to leave the sanctuary of magical-feeling empty fast food joint.

 

“So…” Castiel began, gathering up all the trash and balancing it precariously on the plastic tray.

 

Dean looked on patiently for Cas to finish stacking empty syrup pouches on top of the pile.

 

“If you don't mind…” now he was fiddling with the paper placemat advertising some new bacon burger that looked better than any real burger Dean had ever even seen at a fast food restaurant. “I'm not thrilled with the idea of going home just yet, but-” the

 

“Hey, whoa now, who said anything about taking you home?” Dean interjected “There's always room for you at my place. Mi casa es tu casa, and all that.”

 

Cas looked relieved --and not at all bothered by Dean’s terrible attempt at a Spanish accent-- to the point where several forehead creases smoothed out and his posture relaxed. Dean took the opportunity to pull the tray of trash towards himself, not intending to let Cas clean up by himself.

 

“Are you sure it's not a bother? I'd hate to put you off.”

 

Dean waved a hand dismissively multiple times. “It's not a problem. Really. You're always welcome.”

 

Dean paused halfway through a dramatic wave, a sudden nagging thought worming its way into his train of thought. When had he become so close to Cas? They’d only known each other for what, two days, but already Dean was feeding him, offering him a place to crash. What made Cas so special that Dean treated him so differently from all his other friends, he mused. They’d barely even gotten to know each other, and hell, Dean didn’t even know the guy’s last name-- not that that he really needed to, of course. That wasn't important.

 

Cas leaned across the tiny table, grasping Dean's fidgety hands and effectively pulling Dean back to reality.

 

Dean looked up at Cas’ icy blue, yet somehow warm and welcoming eyes, staring back unwaveringly. They sat like that for only a couple seconds, but to Dean the seconds stretched into hours as time slowed. The clacking of the vents faded into white noise, and Dean’s focus slipped down to Cas’ lips-- definitely without Dean’s permission. The way they moved entranced him for some reason, especially the way his tongue stuck out the tiniest bit when he made the ‘th’ sound.

 

It took Dean a moment to realize the other man was actually speaking to him. He only caught the last couple sentences of what was most likely a long rant, but Cas didn't seem to notice.

 

“--sincerely grateful for everything you’re doing for me. Thank you, and I really mean it. I’ll make it up to you sometime, I promise.”

 

Dean scoffed, more out of disbelief than anything. Leave it to Cas to turn a totally normal, very platonic gesture into a big deal.

 

He pulled a hand out from under Cas’ and slapped him on the shoulder in a friendly way.

 

“Anytime, Cas. And it’s alright, you don’t owe me nothin’.”  Dean stood, grabbing the tray from in front of him and walking the short distance to the garbage bin, muttering a quiet “you're welcome” in response to the large “THANK YOU” engraved onto the swinging door of the trash can.

 

"Now let's get out of here,” he said as he returned to the table Cas was still sitting at, looking thoughtful. “There's gotta be something more fun to do than hangin’ out in a McDonald's. Besides, the workers keep giving us dirty looks."

 

Cas acknowledged Dean’s statement with a slight head tilt, but made no move to get up.

 

"Dean I'm being serious. This is a big deal for me and I need you to know that I appreciate you helping me out.” Cas looked actually concerned.

 

Dean sighed. How many times did he have to say that he didn't mind hanging out with Cas, damn it.

 

“And _I'm_ trying to tell _you_ it's not that big of a deal. It's what friends are for. Now c’mon, let's get out of here, we're makin’ a scene.” Dean nodded his head pointedly towards the counter, where the obviously eavesdropping employees quickly turned away, pretending to be conversing amongst themselves or wiping down machinery.

 

Cas took a second to think it over before finally relenting and letting Dean lead him to the doors. He glanced back at the workers as he exited, and the girl who took their order gave flashed him a thumbs up and a wink. Cas smiled and waved back instinctively, then he was out the door in the cool morning air.

 

  


Dean pulled into his garage and, with Cas in tow, set up camp in the living room. He took Cas’ coat and threw it over the back of a chair, along with his own jacket.

 

“We’ve got a guest room if you wanna sleep.” Dean offered, but Cas plopped down on the sofa and made himself at home.

 

“I’m not really tired,” he yawned. Dean raised his eyebrows.

 

“Ok... D’you want something to drink? We’ve got beer and beer.”

 

“Dean, it’s 4am.”

 

“It’s 5 o’clock somewhere,” Dean grinned.

 

“Well, I guess I’ll have one. Just one,” Cas said after a moment of deliberation. “Thanks.”

 

When Dean returned with the beers, he found Cas lounged sideways across the armrest, legs stretching across almost to the other side. Dean handed him one of the already opened bottles, and set the other on the coffee table in front of the couch. Turning to the TV and the shelf of DVDs and CDs next to it, he held an arm out in a “take your pick” kind of gesture directed at the almost-stranger on his couch, who made a noncommittal gesture back at him.   

 

Cas took a sip of his beer, tasting it while smacking his lips noisily. He shrugged, and took a long draft.

 

“Whoa there, friend, you might need to slow down,” Dean joked over his shoulder, fiddling with three remote controls.

 

Cas meekly set the bottle on the side table and asked, “what’re you doing?”

 

Dean threw one of the remotes on the couch on top of Cas’ legs. The others he stashed in a drawer under the TV. Making his way to the couch, where Cas very considerately moved his legs to make room for Dean to sit, Dean grabbed the remote and pushed some buttons. After a few seconds, the Star Wars opening tune blasted out of the surround sound speakers, making both men jump.

 

“Turn it off!” Cas squeaked --actually squeaked-- and Dean fumbled with the remote. Finally, after half a dozen terrifying notes, Dean’s fingers found the _mute_ button, throwing the whole house into utter quiet… for approximately three seconds.

 

Loud thumps from upstairs broke the silence, followed by a heavy crash and several smaller bumps, then hushed voices.

 

Cas sat up on the couch and looked at Dean in alarm, but Dean half-shrugged, unconcerned, and turned the volume way down before unmuting the system.

 

“Sam’s here,” was the only thing he offered as an explanation.

 

Slowly Cas settled back into the couch, throwing his legs over Dean’s lap like he owned the place and burrowing his face into the crook of the arm of the couch.

 

“Hey!” Dean pinched a leg. “You'd better pay attention. We’re watching this for you.”

 

Cas mumbled into the couch, but sighed and shifted his entire body down on the couch to use the lumpy couch pillow Dean frisbeed at his face. Cas’ thighs ended up on Dean's lap, but he remained unfazed.

 

They managed to get through the entire first scene of The Phantom Menace before Sam came barreling down the stairs in full attack mode, baseball bat raised above his head and girlfriend clinging to the back of his inside out t-shirt.

 

“Do you mind keeping it down?” Dean scolded when Sam practically broke down the door to the living room in search of burglars that weren't there. “We're trying to watch this.”

 

Sam blinked and lowered his bat, and Jess stepped into the room behind him.

 

“What're--?”

 

“Shhhh!”

 

“Dude, it's 4 in the morning.”

 

“Then go to sleep.”

 

Sam scoffed. Jess glared at first Dean, then Cas and turned to go back upstairs. Sam followed soon after telling Dean exactly what he thought of late night Star Wars marathons.

 

Dean and Cas made it through episodes I and half of II (along with several beers each), but neither lasted long enough to switch DVDs to the third, falling asleep as they were on the couch. Dean in his sweatpants and mismatched socks, and Cas in his dark jeans and wrinkled white button up. At some point Linda had snuck down the stairs by herself and onto the couch with them, snuggling in the hollow by Cas’ throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An entire year later, you get chapter 3!! Sorry for not posting sooner, I didn't want to write. I got super bored with this AU and I started writing a different one (that I'm probably not gonna post until I finish it) that I also am mildly bored with. Kudos keep me going (they're fast easy and free). Or feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one, finally posted. I'd really like to hear what you thought, just drop me a comment, maybe a kudo ;) and I'll be posting the rest as soon as I finish it.  
> Also, anyone interested in beta reading this, please, ask me.


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